After Every Sunny Day
by FinnerSong
Summary: Merlin was left in the cellar of the local tavern (the Rising Sun) from a very young age. Morgana lost her father and had to leave home to become King Uther's ward. It was indeed not a pleasant thing to live at that time in Camelot. Nevertheless, they need to find each other and seek hopes, for magic, for their bond and their desperate love. AU Mergana; the rating may change.
1. Mother

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: My first FanFiction! If you find mistakes I made- Sorry! I've tried my best! There may not be much Mergana in the first few chapters, but still they are good. Anyway, hope you enjoy this.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The story began at the Great Purge, when all the sacred temples in this land were destroyed, all the Druids were slaughtered, all the magical creatures were chained or killed and whoever got involved with magic were pursued and executed.

With the help of Balinor(the dragon lord), they finally captured the Great Dragon and kept him imprisoned deep down the castle of Camelot. Uther had held a feast to celebrate then he turned to the dragon lord, who obviously unaware of his being betrayed. When he found out, he had to escape from Camelot guarded by Uther's men during the night. He would not be able to run away successfully without the help of a lovely woman in the town. Her name was Hunith.

Hunith was born in Camelot. When she was a young girl, she loved to explore. There was a door in the cellar of her dwelling, when open the door a long and dark access can be seen. The access led to the forest out of Camelot, which was constructed by Hunith and her father when she was ten. The entrance used to lead her straight to the blueberries and flowers in the forest when she was still a girl.

When Balinor came to Camelot half a year ago, people had considered him as a friend of the king and Hunith had made him accommodations. They somehow became more than acquainted and soon they had fallen in love with each other. Now she helped him escaped.

Balinor looked at the kindest woman he'd ever seen in the world, the woman he loved, tears swelled in his eyes.

"Darling, you must take care." she looked at him, and he saw tears in her eyes.

"I can't express how sorry I am, Hunith-" he didn't continue but kissed her softly on her lips with sorrow.

"It's Uther Pendragon who should feel sorry for what he had done to you, to us."

She was right. It was Uther Pendragon who separated him from the woman he loved. It was Uther Pendragon who made him homeless.

It was time to say goodbye. Hunith thought she had just suffered one of the worst moments in her life as tears streamed down her face. Balinor disappeared behind the door. The tapestry handed down again to hide it from sight.

Uther had been pursuing Balinor and searching the one who helped him escaped for months, a large reward was offered. Another moment that made Hunith's life dreadful was night months later, as the price raise to a certain amount of money, someone in the village told their suspicion to the king. No one had been suspicious of Hunith since she was at home sleeping on the night Balinor found escaped, until they found it strange when they saw a heavy Hunith with child.

* * *

Nimueh cat lived in the cellar of the Rising Sun, which was a small tavern located in downtown Camelot city whose innkeeper was Taber. The cat slightly curled her tail, chased down the low beams of the place to a rat with a speed. Without a fine balance kept, she stirred a little and the rat in no time vanished from her sight into a very dark corner to the shabby wall. Nimueh had wonderful eye sight since she had become a cat but she eventually gave in, sighing inwardly before she turned around to head down the steps and back to her old space.

She still had no idea of how to being adapted to her cat form. It had been almost four years since Arthur Pendragon was born, she thought, settling herself on the floor. Before this, she was the High Priestess who had helped Uther Pendragon got his precious child of his dream, and for a price, his beloved queen, Ygraine, had to be taken to Avalon.

It was then when Uther started to believe that magic was as evil as a power to destroy, human would corrupt once practicing it, and it had never been any good, nor had been the ones who practiced it.

After that he started the Great Purge so she had to hide herself in a cat form to avoid the execution. Hardly anyone knew that she was that pretty sorceress Nimueh. But she still had pale blue eyes of her womanhood and covered with white fur like snow.

She licked one of her paw, thinking who else in the city had already known her true identity. She thought of the old court physician who had retired years ago before magic became illegal in Camelot. "Maybe I would have told Gaius." She thought, "If he had not practice magic and still lived here."

Hunith seemed to be reliable enough for Nimueh, though. "She knows exactly who I am," she thought, "but I know exactly what she had done as well." Of course, they shared all their secrets. Hunith came to see the High Priestess with some cat food every other day. She told the cat she loved Balinor so much that she had to help him escape. She also told the cat how much she loved the child she had with Balinor, even the child had only been born for a day at that time.

"His name is Merlin." She told the cat with a tender smile. The cat answered her words with mews.

Poor Hunith, she continued to think, how she could even answer the question of the child's father? Especially now when the king had already become very suspicious, and…

The door of the cellar sprung open, Nimueh lifted her head only to see Hunith scurried down the stairs holding Merlin in her arms.

"Nimueh!" she shouted, "I had to leave the city, NOW. So would you take care of Merlin, please?"

Nimueh walked up to the woman and mewed once to assured her. She had already predicted this- events like this would happen soon or later, she thought.

Only to put down the baby on the ragged carpet, Hunith tried to smile at her a little but failed. She went down to look at her sleeping son wrapped in a red handkerchief-this perhaps would be the last time in her life. She felt like the tears of bitterness had already swollen in her eyes but she would not let them fall. It was a grief when she kissed his forehand and then she had to stand up, to fight her way through the forest to find another way of living out of Camelot, out of home. Though it was not a home to her here anytmore.

She put a scroll of paper into the handkerchief and turned to Nimueh. "He is special, you know, one day he will grow up." She seemed to be far away, "Tell him I love him, as always."

She had to go then, leaving Nimueh walking around the still sleeping baby. And her world was in silence again, before little Merlin woke up.

* * *

Merlin was holding a jug of mead towards the group of man who were seemingly not the frequenters to the Rising Sun. His head could barely reach their table but he somehow managed to place the jug on it, only when he was about to leave he heard one of them begin to yelp.

"Seems that we have a fool to perform us some entertainment!" He shouted, "Taber, it's that your new juggler here?"

"Given all his failings, he must be!"

They were kicking up the row, and Taber came over. Taber was a covetous man at the age of forty. He had found a sleeping baby wrapped in a handkerchief in his cellar one night two years ago, inside the handkerchief there was a piece of paper with the baby's name _Merlin_ on it. He took Merlin in and as soon as Merlin could walk he started to serve in his tavern.

"You heard the guests, Merlin?" Taber raised his eyebrows, "Jump to it!" He tossed him several balls.

Maybe the little boy didn't have any skills, but he'd better do as the innkeeper asked.

Taber honestly didn't know when Merlin did learn to juggle like that, not that he cared. The only thing he concerned was the extra money they paid for the whole entertainment thing.

Day after day, Merlin got up at dawn, all he did after that was _clean, clean, serve, serve, serve, serve, juggle, and serve, and juggle, feed Nimueh, bed._

Nimueh cat watched Merlin grew, a little bit older and day after day. She remembered the moments when the baby could turn over, sit, listen, walk and feed himself with a biscuit. Before he could talk, he moved things around and when a certain object, like a spoon flied across the room, he would not stop giggling. Now that he could talk. She appreciated the fact that Taber hadn't found out any clues of his gift thus far.

* * *

Taber hadn't pay taxes for months and he had to pay right away or he would be put in prison. He refused to give his money or the ownership of his tavern away, so he paid them a proportion of his properties, including some gold, one of his horses and a boy.

That's how 3-year-old Merlin went to the castle of Camelot, or exactly, that's how he went to the kitchens, the stables and the chambers of the castle, only to mop on the floor, clean the windows, sweep the chimneys and stables and so on.

Life had become more difficult for Merlin since he came here. Anything that the maids, servants, or cooks unwilling to do in the castle, he would have to do it. They would call Merlin when they didn't feel like to be upstairs to deliver the laundry, or they would ask him to finish their undone duties. But when he finished a day, exhausted and ravenous, he would find little to eat in the kitchen. No any leftovers for him to gobble down.

Actually he didn't have a friend since he came here because seemingly nobody liked his stuck-out ears and his sometimes idiotic grin, or his clumsiness when he was at work.

He did have one friend, though. He called her Morgie. At times he would tell Nimueh about her, about his adventures with his new friend. He made these adventures as if they were true.

When he was frozen out at night with a thin blanket covered on, he thought Morgie would come and lie down together with him. When he had nothing to eat after a hard day, Morgie would leave him some food on the small table in the cellar. He still lived in the cellar of the tavern with Nimueh. When one night he didn't have to serve around the castle, he might start his journey deep down towards where the Great Dragon had been imprisoned, with Morgie and a torch in his hand. What underneath the castle was something too dark for him to even imagine, yet they were exciting. Morgie would love excitements, he told the cat.

Then he fell asleep with the imagination still bubbling in his head and a little jolly face. After all he was only a boy and everything about his little (imaginary) friend Morgie had made him feel much better, to help him passed the time as a-he didn't really have a chance to choose-as a slave.

* * *

**Well, I hope it is not that rubbish :) **

**Many thanks everyone, for reading/reviewing/following/favouriting.**

**The content of the following chapters will likely be a little bit disturbing, by the way.**


	2. Sunlight

**A/N:Here comes Chapter 2, be happy! Though it is a short one. I am not really sure where all these ideas came about. Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Winter was in the air. Winter was everywhere. When Merlin crept into his bed, he knew that winter was there to make him toss and turn and restless for the cold. When his meal was reduced to one per day because of the famine which caused by the lack of harvest in Camelot, he knew that winter had come. When he found that his clothes were all too scanty to keep him from shivering, he knew that winter was there, as stern and cruel as Uther Pendragon, coming with the cutting wind,

It had been raining for nearly two weeks. Sometimes it was a cloudburst; sometimes it sprinkled on and off, making everyone who dwelled here in Camelot frustrated and in a furious mood, and then it was hailstones following. Merlin looked at his worn out boots and felt like he would like to cry.

King Olaf and his daughter Vivian had paid Camelot a visit to sign up a treaty in economy with Uther. The treaty had been long in the making and all they awaited was the signing ceremony.

After so many days of rain, it was, at last, a sunny day indeed. There was breeze and sunlight. Beautiful sunlight. If Merlin had heard birdsong tweeting outside, he would have thought that spring had come.

It still had hours before sunset, and after cleaning up the Lady Vivian's chamber (one of the best guests' chambers in the castle), he put down the duster cloth and sat on the floor of her chambers. The window was stained but fair enough. The inflammations caused by the perniones on his heels had made him feel pain and itchy for weeks. He stretched his chilblained toes out to the tiny circles of sunshine reflected on the ground. It was so bliss. After having walked in the rain for a month and suffered such hash weather, it was so bliss. So bliss that he would like to spin around and around and giggle, or maybe he should lie down on the ground and stir, or maybe he should dance, should hum a tune, or…

He chose to stay in the wardrobe for a very short rest. Just an about five minutes' rest, he wouldn't fall asleep or stay any longer than this, he _wouldn't_ cause any trouble. Vivian would _never_ find out.

He opened the wardrobe and crept in; push all of Vivian's clothes aside to make a spot for himself. He sat himself down on it and closed his eyes. Red filled his line of sight as all the sunshine was soothing his eyelids. Sunshine, every corner of his universe was sunshine. He suddenly felt so very sad. Or it may not be sad, it's just kind of various emotions mixed together that he couldn't hold at once in his very young chest, but he just let them fill him.

* * *

The dawn fell. The sky turned grey again. The light from the fireplace was so faint and weird, and so different from the sunshine of winter hours ago; how many hours he had slept away he didn't know, though.

He'd got to leave for some footsteps were approaching and except that…except that he had weed in the wardrobe during his slumber and…

Vivian had been furious more than curious about why the door of her wardrobe was not fully closed, and before she could get close to shut it, the peek of a certain figure had already came to her. The night- year- old lady Vivian with fair blonde hair and ivory skin screamed like there had been rats and cockroaches dwelled in her wardrobe as she pulled open both of its doors.

Merlin jumped and was immediately on his feet.

"Father! Oh, good heavens-look at all my splendid dressed, all were damaged!" she continued her wiry voice, "Father, look at the BLOODY SERVANT in Camelot, he left his filthy _wee_ on my dress, I want you to KILL him on right where he stands, I want to go home, FATHER!"

_Don't scream-don't let Olaf or Arthur or Uther or the guards hear you-don't-please-stop-NOW!_ He prayed inwardly.

His prayers came true and after a while nobody answered her. She was silent for a moment then cast him a look full of abomination.

"Take off what you're wearing, you lowly chump!" she shrieked at his face. He flinched a little, and then did as she told.

"Very lucky for you if my father's not here or he will screw your head off. Now you'll pay for what you've done."

She asked him to pick up the light yellow dress she had just tossed on the floor, which was the only clammy one in her wardrobe, used to be her favourite and now her most disgusted with.

After that she tossed all of Merlin's clothes into the fireplace and told him to put her dress on.

He had hardly had time to save his worn out boots, his shirt and his handkerchief. Nor had he had time to watched the only thing his mother left him (well, he did think so) withered and died in the fire when she shouted for the guards.

This time, two guards arrived. They dragged him through the streets as Vivian ordered.

The dress was too large and too long for him; part of it had stuck to his flesh as he was forced to parade. The wind rose as the sun set, and the clammy dress had made it even harder to tolerate. His feet were bruised by tiny rocks on the ground and sometimes he would trip over the hems of the dress and the guards would pull him back on his feet fiercely. They kept hitting him with their spears, kicking him, especially when he couldn't walk at a certain pace and slow down.

His pace had become even slower when the groups encountered Arthur Pendragon. However, one of the guards dragged him ahead and the other greeted with a loud voice, "Good evening, sire."

_Oh, for god's sake they just hadn't had enough fun kicking me like that and they would like to see Arthur Pendragon to gut me alive, surely he would. _Merlin had seen what Arthur had done with some of the children in the lower town before, with his knights by his side. When he was younger, he had decided that the blonde head bully should be taught a lesson once he became more powerful with his magic, though his own life was surrounded by bullies and he had hardly managed to beat them. Now he was at one of bullies' mercy and he'd doubted that he could live to see the day when he became that powerful.

"What's wrong with you?" he was only eight but he was tall enough to look down upon Merlin. He waved his hand a little, beckoning to the oversize dress, eyeing Merlin up and down, the same abomination on his face as whoever had seen Merlin on the streets just now.

"He had…" one of a guard began and Arthur motioned again to stop him.

"I don't like cowards." He said with a frown, "Now tell me, boy. What have you done?"

Merlin gave him the answer and held his head up to look at him. For a sickening moment of silence, he thought he would run him through with his sword. Then he heard several of the _prince_'s chortles.

"Let him go." The king of bullies and clotpoles said, still being amused, "It was this late and I think everyone should get some sleep."

"But sire…" very disappointed and confused, two guards unlocked the shackles and spared him.

He went back to the cellar still in that dress without the heavy shackles clanging as he walked. Off the dress-left it on the floor -climb into his bed and watch the fire dead slowly in the fireplace before he fell asleep. The other tatty outfit of his was still dribbling in front of the fireplace because of yesterday's rain. He was still a bit wistful for the afternoon he had-how heavenly it was, he thought.

* * *

Nearly a week after when he woke up, he found Nimueh sitting on his knees and staring at him, and he was sure that she had mewed. He heard that by his heart, not by his ears-because he was totally deaf -now.

* * *

**Please tell me how you feel about it, or just tell me you feel nothing after you read. **

**Uncomfortable? Let's hope not.**

**Next will be our High Priestess Morgana's performance, and there will be Guinevere.**


	3. Her dreams

**Chapter 3 **

Seven-year-old Guinevere walked along the streets of Camelot with her father, looking around and drank in the sights of the town. This would be the second time since his father had taken her here. The snow had just stopped and the streets were all covered. Living in a not far away village out of Camelot, they had come here to gather their daily supplies.

Guinevere's father had been working as a blacksmith, but he believed that one day his little girl would become queen, so he had given her such a name-not that Guinevere herself liked it at all. Most people had always called her Gwen and she liked it, a lot.

Now she had stopped in front of a stall to purchase pieces of cloth and buttons for a new shirt and all of a sudden, she felt something pulling the hems of her dress.

She had never seen a cat looked like this before. This graceful …or maybe gorgeous? Actually the girl couldn't think of a word to describe the cat at the moment but she followed her, curiously and being entranced.

She walked down the steps and it was so very dark down there. She could sense there was still a half of a candle on the table, so she lighted it.

She could see clearly then. The boy younger than her was very ill. She hesitated a little, and then went outside to fetch some water to tend to him. His fever was severe. After a while, she thought of the potions she had just bought to take home inside her pocket. She held the boy's head to let him took the potions.

"Here, take the rest of my potions, they may make him feel better." She put the glass phials on the table. The cat mewed.

She bit he lips and cast the boy in the bed a worried look, and she really would like to ask some questions, but-

"I have got to go, my father's waiting, but -I think you'd better find him a doctor." She told the cat.

She walked up the stairs and went down to have a close look at the amazing cat. "You really are a good cat." She smiled, "You've safe your master. I hope we can meet again."

Nimueh gave her a poisonous look but she seemed didn't notice._ Merlin my master? Never ._She snorted. She was the high priestess, after all.

The cat watched the still kind of chubby Guinevere with mocha skin walked away, she had a very good heart though, she thought.

Inside, magic was bubbling through the veins of the young warlock, helping him recover. He turned in his bed to chance a position but he didn't wake up. He had been like this for a few days though and Nimueh had to go outside to find herself something to eat.

* * *

The first thing Morgana Le Fay used to do when she was younger after she got up was to tear the curtains aside by her own hands. This might have been a little bit difficult for her—everybody would just tell her she was not old enough, which made her feel a bit angry. She used to tiptoe with her bare feet after that, only to see if there were swallows outside the window or sunshine on the sill.

Now she was six years old and she was even taller than her father had expected. Her eyes were emerald, her skin was pale, her figure was slender but actually she was as healthy as a young tree.

Le fays lived in the north of the border. Ever since little Morgana could remember, her father, Gorloris Le Fay, who was a knight of Camelot, had always been away from home. He came back home once every three months approximately, bringing her presents and stories of a knight's life. Her mother Vivienne ran away from the land when she was only one. She didn't quite remember her mother actually, but she had the love of her father.

She didn't have to draw the curtains today, though. She knew that it couldn't have been any sunshine or swallow. The sky would just be gray out there. It was winter in the north-the weather had always been merciless.

She stayed in her bed and tried to get back to the state of asleep. She had always had dreams since she was very young. The visions she saw were all vivid, so vivid that sometimes she even couldn't tell whether they were dreams or realities. Most of her dreams were nightmares, and they had become worse since the recent departure of Gorloris.

She had dreams about streets, and she thought they belonged to Camelot because they just looked like how her father had told her. He told her a lot about the city he guarded.

She had dreams about Uther Pendragon. She saw him sentenced people to death because they practiced magic. She saw his men drown the children of the Druids into the wells and slaughtered their parents in their camps.

She had dreams about wars. She saw warriors wearing red cloaks fell one by one. Everywhere was on fire. She could hear women scream and children cry.

Not that all of her dreams were nightmares though. Sometimes she saw things really fascinating-like dragons and the boy who was talking to him. The dragon seemed outraged and he roared, with fire blowing out of his mouth.

There was knocks on the door and it opened, an old man's face appeared between the doorframe and the door.

"Oh, good morning Gaius! You paid me a visit such early!"

"Ah-good morning, my lady, it's not that early, your father has asked me to take care of you and he doesn't want you to slug in bed all morning-"

"I didn't slug in bed-"

"I am sure you didn't. It's all your nightmares, isn't it? I'll make another potion for you later. Now hurry up, you have lessons to take."

"Thank you, but the potions-I don't really want to take the potions you gave me anymore."

"Why?" Gaius raised his brow.

"Because they only make it worse. I am sorry, Gaius."

* * *

Morgana's chamber's was warm and comfortable. Her maid Susan had just taken away the candle so it was dark, though Morgana herself didn't afraid of darkness. It was a miracle, the maids and servants in her house said, because most of the children in her age didn't like darkness.

Compare with her nightmares, darkness had never threatened to draw her to the edge of madness. She thought of the boy she saw in her dreams. He had talked to the dragons. He had saved Arthur. He had kissed her on her cheek.

But most of the time when she saw the lanky boy with board shoulders and sapphire eyes, she felt she was…overwhelmed and drown.

* * *

_It was those streets again. Streets in Camelot. But they were all hollow and colourless. The tiles and bricks used to lay with the paths were all covered with snow. She looked around to find someone, only to see the boy coming towards her. He didn't look at her in the eye though._

_She saw blood on the tiles as he walked. It may have come from his bare wounded feet. He was walking slowly so she could get a better look at his limbs, which were all flecked with scars and sores and some of his sores had even already suppurated. He was only in his pants and vest and all of them were dirty, especially his pants-now she could see why he was walking that slowly-it hurt. His stomach hurt, very much._ _Serious diarrhea._

_She wanted to shout out but it was in her heart and no voice came out. Wait a moment-_

_She wanted to run after him but her legs didn't move. He soon disappeared around the corner of the street._

She snapped her eyes open only to see a concerned face of Gaius. Her mouth dry, her hands sweaty.

He put one hand on her forehead.

"You've got a fever, Morgana." He said gently.

* * *

Merlin didn't bring back anything to eat for himself, nor did he bring anything back to feed Nimueh. It was his four-year-old birthday and it seemed that nobody did care. Nobody did think that he could get a day off or a least something proper to eat. It was late at night and he had just finished rubbing all the dishes in one of the castle's kitchen. He sat on the edge of his bed to give his sore legs a rest, casting Nimueh a sorry smile as he raised his open hands.

"They had left me nothing. At all." He uttered as he shrugged, still smiling and Nimueh climbed onto his narrow bed, sitting next to him. She knew the boy was hungry and she felt very sorry for him. He didn't want her to be sad though, so he reached out his hand to touch the fur on her back and she didn't pull away-she had really hated people petting her, but this time it was an exceptional.

"It will be better tomorrow, don't worry Nimueh." He assured her, "tomorrow I will give you your favourite." He let go the cat and lay down, and he got up again to blow out the candle.

He knew there were stars high above the sky outside. He saw them before entering where he stayed. More stars meant that the spring was coming—everything in the world was waiting.

* * *

His tomorrow didn't become better at all, nor did his following days. His life had actually become even worst since the first day he found himself couldn't hear any more.

He used to be a bumbling kind. Now he was even clumsier and "unbelievably idle-brained". He kept making mistakes. He kept blundering by misunderstanding orders. He could not watch others' lips-language and guess their meaning, for he was only four and barely hold his vocabulary.

They literally chastised him for all the disasters he had caused and all the errors he made. Some of them lashed out at him as if he was a fly, others gathered and made fun of him whereas he was being punished.

He found himself easier to get hungry as he grew older. If permitted, he sneaked into wherever it was to get some food; he had done so before since he came to work in the castle, but frequently now.

Magic had always been necessary for successful and frequent thefts. His magic. It was almost the only thing that made him alive and move on, let alone his imaginary friend Morgie. He was born with magic. He was special because of magic. This somehow prevented him from self-pity, though he was not yet a master of magic, for once in his life. Most of the time he succeeded and managed to feed himself and Nimueh with several bonds of stolen bread, other time he was flayed raw when he was found sneaking out with a pocket tucked full of food inside.

Now they understood why their food in the kitchens or chambers always became less once they were absent.

"Sneak thieves like you should be condemned to a slow and painful death." They said harshly. "Count to ten, you filthy little badger."

One of them was holding a leather strap and gave him a dorsal flogging. "Count!" they demanded.

"One..."he panted. Then he just kept in silence to think of which number would be the next. Three, or maybe four? Damned if he knew.

All he could keep in his eyesight was their distorted face when they laughed. They yelled something at his face. He was there surrounded by insults like "idiot!" or "pig!", but he somehow wasn't there.

He always wasn't there. He should have corrupted if he had heard what they said about him. Deafness somehow gave him a small silent corner of universe and an innocent heart.

The strap whined across the slightly chilly air and descended on his back rapidly without mercy. He whimpered like an animal in the trap. It could have been worse. Again and again, they kicked one of his calves roughly. Some smacked him. Some said they would cut his dirty paws off and feed the dogs. Some laugh at the sound of gulping in his throat when the leather crash through his skin.

He cried out his only friend's name, voice hoarse with despair and heavy pain. He was disoriented, almost collapsed on the ground. He saw their disgusted expressions when they heard him cry, not the numbers they demanded but a name, Morgie. It was not wise to do so as some of them began to wonder who Morgie was, but maybe this was the only thing he could keep in mind at this moment. The moment he was severely starving yet nobody thought he didn't deserve to be treated like this. Eventually they let him off, after giving him a thrashing because of his sin, but mostly because of who he was. _Merlin the idiot._

Having enough fun, they left him on the ground and apart, back to their tables to continue their whiskey and mead. Morgie still aired in his mind, around him.

* * *

**Merlin would meet Morgana next chapter. **

**Please review:)**


	4. The Lady

**I know you guys are reading my story, just tell me what you think about it, alright? Come on! Just give me some reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter 4 **

It was a muggy summer night. She had dreams about battles again. Her dreams about battles were all similar: knights of Camelot dashed out and yelled, their red cloaks fluttering in the rear; swords clanging, arrows flying; some were wounded; some were dead.

_It was her father. It was Gorloris. It was his turn to die, in this battle. He would always be remembered, for he had always been loyalty to his king and brave enough to sacrifice himself for the people of Camelot. Funeral. King Uther. Speech. His son Arthur. _

_Her father. Eyes close. In a boat. Flowers. By the lake. Fire was set._

* * *

It was only five in the morning and it was misty outside. Morgana walked down the icy marble stairs with her bare white feet, making them feel cold.

Gorloris had tucked her into bed yesterday night, telling her three bed time stories to finally make her feel sleepy and kissed her forehead to say goodbye. He had to leave early this morning and he didn't want to wake his beloved daughter.

He was then having a cup of tea by the dining table when his little girl moved towards him, trying very hard to fight her tears. She sat by the table, on the chair next to him.

Le Fays will never show any sign of weakness. Never. She swallowed, shouted at herself inwardly and trying to control as she stared blankly at the tablecloth.

But she failed when her father stood and gently pulled her close into an embrace. She threw her arms around his legs and came to weeping. Their hold together didn't last long since Gorloris had cupped her face to make her look at him. He gave her a smile, which was very affectionate. It was so unforgettable that her heart had fallen and shattered into pieces at the very moment.

"Smile, my darling."

She forced herself a smile, trying to be as brave as her father.

"Great. You see, I will be back soon. You don't have to wait until winter and I will be back-and you will have grown this tall and your hair-" He waved his hand.

"Promise me you will be back." Almost in despair, she raised her teary eyes.

"I promise you."

* * *

Her father didn't come back as he had promised and she didn't go to his funeral either since she had already seen it in her dreams, again and again until Gorloris' name was on the roll of honor.

From the very morning her father left, nightmares had become torturers to her. She had eaten less and slept less and become more slender. Gaius had been trying all he had to improve Morgana's health, until he got the news that she would become the king of Camelot's ward.

Gaius feared for what Morgana would become once she was adopted by Uther Pendragon and confided in the castle of Camelot, but he could do nothing about it.

The morning Morgana Le Fay had got to leave the house in which she was born, she vomited up all she had just eaten for breakfast, which was just a little, without anybody's notice. Then she took in one breath and let Susan comb her hair and help her get dress. She was in her Sunday clothes, looking like an angel.

She was on her mount waiting for departure. The moment when she had to say goodbye to Gaius had almost messed up her promise, for she had promised herself there was no more tears again.

"Morgana, I am going to give you this." Gaius passed her a rabbit's foot, "my mother gave it to me. It was said to protect you from evil spirits and give you good luck."

As she took the rabbit's foot, he laughed a bit and said, "It is rubbish, anyway. I don't believe the superstition. I don't know why I gave it to you."

"No, I want it, Gaius. And thank you." She said gratefully and smiled genuinely at the old man who had always been a figure of uncle/grandfather to her. Everyone who lived in the estate all came here to bid her farewell.

The moment Morgana Le Fay started her trip towards Camelot, everything had been taking away from her, what was left inside were the memories and her hatred for the tyrant of Camelot, Uther Pendragon.

* * *

Two guards pushed the two dark doors open. Everything here in Camelot seemed large for her: the castle, the yards, the doors and now the great hall which was slowly revealed in front of her.

There was Uther Pendragon whose crown placed on his head and a golden head standing next to the chair, Arthur Pendragon. The world would be better without this two people, she snorted bitterly.

He left the chair and walked towards her. Still she lifted her dress and bowed, smiled properly as she uttered, "My lord."

"Morgana Le Fay, Gorloris' daughter." A smile formed on his usually stiff face and his gray eyes soften, "How like _your mother_ you are. Welcome to Camelot."

_How could he suppose to know my mother?_

"May I present my son, Arthur Pendragon."

They greeted each other.

"If you'd like to hang around here later he will take you." Uther continued, "Well, I guess you have been tired through such a long journey, let the maids lead you to your chamber then. You need good rest, and I hope you would kindly do me the honor of joining me for dinner later this evening."

"I will."

"Thank you and Morgana, you should be proud of your father. He's indeed a great man."

* * *

Morgana, now was the Lady Morgana, sat by the king's left as Arthur sat by the right. It has been a week since the day she arrived Camelot, and during this week, she had two fights with Arthur Pendragon who was nearly twelve years old (which was two years older than her), for once he had ruined a beautiful dress she painted in their art class. How could she be possible to talk to someone who hated art lessons? The following days she found out that when they had classes together, she was able to work out all the problems in arithmetic and got a lot of praises from the court tutor(who was called Ms Howell) while there's a lot of resentment on Arthur's face-later that night when she sneaked out her chamber to breathe at the balcony, Arthur saw her and said that he would go to tell his father that she was not in bed this late- she tried pushing him over and then swung her fist towards the prince of Camelot-so here came the other fight.

He was indeed a prat and she was supposed to give him a lesson- they were outside his chamber as she rushed in, picking up the wooden sword laying on his table (her father had taught her how to fight before) and poked it to Arthur who had immediately made reaction.

"You're such a baby, Arthur Pendragon." She snapped as she swung her sword, "The only thing you are capable do is to tell on and ask your daddy's man to protect you-"

"I am not!" he protested, warded off then swung his sword against hers, "you are the exact baby of Ms Howell…"

"Shut your face, Arthur."

They were all sweaty and making noises then suddenly, they heard footsteps. They hid themselves into a dark corner waiting for whoever it was to get pass.

"Never could you beat me, Morgana."

"And you likewise."

"You're not going to tell father anything about this, are you?" he whispered after a moment of silence, a little bit worried though he didn't want to show it.

"Not if you stop being such an arrogant ass." She replied, still a little bit breathless.

He rolled his eyes and paused a little, before he finally said, "I think you are really good at sword fight, you really should have come to our training if…"

"If what?"

"You know that my father will ban this if he finds out. Females in the court are not supposed to swinging a sword around."

"Oh, of course they're not, and I've just forgotten the fact that you are the good son of Uther's."

"Hey!"

* * *

She had secretly started her training with Arthur though. She found that swinging a sword around can be relaxing and prevented her from being homesick, even though the swords were not only made of wood. All they can see was that the Prince Arthur and the Lady Morgana used swords to fight everyday, like all the spirited child of their age.

It was the ninth day since she came to Camelot and Arthur was going out for a hunting trip with the knights on such a fine autumn morning. When an older knight, Sir Leon (who was at sixteen) was instructing Arthur about how to kill a deer, he saw her and suggested that she should come with them. So she went to the stable to find a horse.

She dragged her horse outside the stable and suddenly she saw him. The boy in her dream, though he was less wrenched today. He was then carrying a broom and headed towards the stable to sweep it. He didn't pay much attention since he was looking at the spots of sunshine on the ground.

She should have walked away yet she still managed to have her gaze linger on his back for more than a few seconds before moving on. She was a little one as well, but she wasn't in such ragged and didn't have such goofy ears, she thought. Finally she was able to have a good look at him rather than just see him walking or in a dark cave talking to a dragon. He turned around to meet her gaze. So she stared back heartily, but it didn't make him cringe. His orbs were so sapphire and always damp around. There was something in it that made her so curious that she couldn't resist piercing into. Green met blue as his eyes bore into hers. Then she found something familiar but something stingily unacquainted as well.

The rest of the day she just couldn't help thinking about the whole figure of Merlin's—he was virtually the only stuff that managed to carve in her mind until now since she had come to Camelot.

* * *

He had imaged his friend to be in different way since he had got the very ability. She once was a shy and baby-fat little girl with freckles on her cheeks. Next time she would be as lanky as he himself with hazel straight hair. He didn't have any friend to talk to for such a long time and didn't even dare to say much because they didn't like to hear his voice, but Morgie made it up for him.

If this had always seemed to be quite ridiculous and pathetic for he hadn't even met one of his Morgies ever before, it would never happened again—at the exact moment he set his eyes on the Lady Morgana, he immediately decided that she should be his new Morgie. Perhaps the best figure of Morgie that he'd ever had throughout his imagination and this figure would never change. Yet this Morgie was existed. Stood right there just now. He watched as she walked away with her horse and began to feel dizzy in the golden sunlight. It was the fact very much matching the stupid wide grin on his face.

He set foot on the stable and began his daily work. She had really made his day and in high such spirits, magic was bubbling inside his body. It was simply an eye contact, however, for a seven-year-old boy Merlin who had been leading a dog's life it was just like a beaker full of warm South.

* * *

******Sorry for the long backgrounds and grammar mistakes. If you think the story itself is not good enough, please tell me what the problem is.**

**If I intent to continue this story,there will be much more interaction between Merlin and Morgana ever since I posted this chapter.**


	5. The Sea

**Here it is, chapter 5! Feedbacks, the more the better. Though I don't really like this chapter.**

**I may only be able to update the stories on weekends**** from now on** since I've got loads of exams to do. Besides, our Merlin and Morgie would grow up one day so don't you worry about that.

* * *

Chapter 5

The lower town was as noisy and busy as usual, there was a circle of people again, shouting and bounding. Fight, again, Morgana thought, and tried to get a peek at the crowd- she saw Merlin (she knew his name somehow) with sapphire eyes that came to clean the floor of her chamber everyday, and the other boy who has brown and short hair leaped up at him.

"Come on! Tomas! Beat him!"

She heard the crowd shouted and thought that is was a bit unfair since nobody was on the boy with raven hair's side, and the brown head was even much tougher than him-she also heard the guards from a certain distance "Boys, lay off it! Pack it in!" Then she was knocked by a piece stone on the temple and fell to the ground. Dizzily, she could feel blood.

The crowd was buzzing as the guards scurried towards here. She heard their boots.

"My lady! Are you alright? Oh, my goodness!"

"Which of your bastards throw the stone?"

"Merlin did it!"

"Put him in jail!"

"Flog him!"

She really wished the poor boy wasn't Merlin, but the only thing she knew at the five seconds as he was hurriedly dragged by the guards was that her head hurt.

* * *

He came to her chamber, realising that the doors were unlocked, he lightly pushed in. She had been reading, a band of bandage above one of her ears. He swallowed and walked closer to her, looking at her ear—it was like a fairy's, he thought. He'd seen pictures of fairies, knights and dragons on one of Morgana's story books when he was mopping her floor, and he really wished that he could read all those stories.

Upon seeing him, she stood up and snapped "strip." He looked like he was ready to ask a question.

She felt sorry for the fact that every word she said sounded like a demand, but wait, after all he couldn't hear, right? And Arthur had told her that if she said more than a simple sentence to him, he would just look at her, being puzzled and without a proper reaction.

She had a conversation with Arthur that morning, about Merlin, actually.

Arthur himself doesn't quite remember Merlin since he was to him a nobody. But wait, he thought of one. And he told Morgana the whole thing about Vivian. She laughed a bit when she heard Arthur complain that Vivian was the most vapid and vain one he had ever seen, still the rudest one.

"He sometimes would smile at you when he was wiping the floor or windows of your chamber! How weird is that!" he frowned and uttered another comment about Merlin.

Merlin did smile a lot, especially at her, because when she saw him smile, she felt she had to smile as well, or, both of them would just hurt. His smile, maybe, just maybe mean nothing to her but her smile did mean a lot, to him.

Now Merlin was in her chamber but he wasn't smiling at her. She knew he realised what she had told him to do and she looked solemn. His eyes darken a little. His lips a little shaken, and finally let out his unsteady voice, "I am... reaally sorry...my lady"

He was trying to control and not let his voice startled her, so it sounded a little shuddering. "No need to apologize," he saw her said, maybe a little bit impatient on her face, "just strip."

He slowly peeled off his shirt and found it was disgustingly bloody. He shivered a bit. She walked away, maybe to find something like a stick or a piece of leather. Or a pot of cold water, he thought, but he had never figured out what was happening when they had just smiled at him and next they would thrash him. He never figured out. All the bad memories came towards him.

The scars on his back were a sight she could not bear. The worst part was that he held up his head and looked at her in surprise when she traced a figure with great care across them. She suddenly realised why he had been shivering like that-He thought she would give him a proper whipping.

"Stay still." she demanded again and turned her head aside in order that he didn't see the sorry tears swollen in her eyes. She tried to bit them back.

She quickly applied the ointment on the scars and spread it apart. He was looking at his feet, feeling much better now, though he flinched as the ointment was applied. For the first time in his life, he had someone to patch him up after all those miseries he had been through.

She was so very kind. He had always been careful when he came to her chamber to clean, but still he had broken something once, but she wasn't outraged like the other ladies in the castle when he had blundered. _The stone was supposed to hit Tomas_, the bastard who had stolen his cake for breakfast, not her. He shouldn't have picked up the stone. He would rather die than hurting her.

He put on his shirt thinking about perhaps that would be the last chance he got to ask her about-_that_. "My lady" he said, "could you...tell me...how to...count from 1 to 10?"He looked at her with expectation.

He looked at her, expecting her to mouth "Fine" or some words of agreement.

"Why's that?" she asked, feeling at a loss but smiled slightly as if hearing something dramatically absurd. He smiled back, ears turned red because of the embarrassment he had-probably he had just uttered something unspeakable, or probably it was as simple as to reflect the smile of her own. After a little while she understood. All of a sudden-she recalled the guards yelling at him on the plaza demanding him to do something. She figured it out then. Oh, no. "Count!" but he didn't do as they asked, so...Hell! She cursed inwardly and lifted her eyes to meet Merlin's, to be hit by his still smiling. She stared him in the face, making his smile fade and she suddenly felt sick. "No, for God's sake Merlin, don't smile at me like that!" she cried out, voice collapsed by the abrupt sob in her throat, "No! That's no fun at all...It was too pathetic. It was awful! Those brutes! How could..."she did not finish the sentence, nor did she hold her tears back so she let them run freely down her cheeks. Feeling the heat of her own tears, she slowly dropped herself on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees, shaking violently as she wept._ This was not right_.

In spite of the fact that they made fun of him and he had suffered ill-disposed bullying, he was still able to smile, light-heartedly and good-naturedly. She herself was disappointed by most of the people here throughout the year, especially by Uther pendragon who easily sentenced people to death and she was never allowed to question him about anything, nor was Arthur. And the dollophead Arthur Pendragon, she distasted the way he treated her sometimes, like the only thing she could do was to comb her hair or doing things like that. Living here was mostly maddening and smothering, but she didn't have another choice. There must be something special about Merlin that she couldn't really put her finger on, she thought.

It has been a year, it was summer again. Bitterness swelled in her heart as she thought of her father, her home.

Merlin was totally frozen. He didn't know what had happened to change her in a minute, what he had said or what he had done was wrong, to cause her sudden outrage and outburst of tears. He dare move closer, about to give her an apology when suddenly she threw her arms around him, cradling him tightly. Her head twisted and her nose rubbed a little on his hair as she whimpered. He was completely startled and bewildered and motionless at first, but she seemed so very sad. _She was very sad._ He tentatively wrapped one of his arms around her, patting on her back as she whimpered.

He was trussed at a post because of the accident he caused this morning. The Lady Morgana, King Uther's ten-year-old ward, was assaulted by a stone he threw at her and hurt her head. The slave was taken to the king and sentenced to twelve flogs. He was barely a little boy but they didn't feel like letting him off.

He was left on the post for public viewing for two hours after that. Some threw stones at him and they hit his shoulders and his back, some shouted at him with abusive language. He couldn't hear what they said. His back was sore and stinging because of the wounds, and the sun was pricking them with bitterness. His eyes were about to melt and he was thirsty and hungry.

An hour later he couldn't tolerate anymore. "Would you… please give me some water…sir?" he begged the guard, voice ragged. He got nothing but a look stuck with abomination, and then something more like a rude remark. He saw the laundry maid for whom he had finished all the laundry she should have finished by herself yesterday. "Mary, do you...have some water please? I am… really thirsty. "He asked when she walked passed. But she quickly walk away, not even look at him in the eye. Passers and passers went by, he asked almost every one but got nothing. Some of them was shocked that the lower slave who had attacked the lady wasn't flogged to death but stand there pleaded for charity of water. Some throw an empty water skin to him.

His voice sounds even worse, and then the guard walked towards him, threatened that if he dared to say anything anymore, he would be flogged again.

"I am thirsty, please give ..."he didn't continue because the guard gave him a stroke once again. He screamed.

He thought he maybe saw the Lady Morgana from the distant walking towards him. The sun was still pricking and he didn't allow himself to dream of it, so he closed his eyes in pain. He deserved this.

His eyes were still closed until he felt a cool figure on his left cheek. Here she was. Morgie.

The distant lady was now front of him holding a water skin.

He thought he must be dead as Morgie pour some water into his mouth. His mouth had been long dry, yet his eyes started to become wet.

Now she was crying over him after applying him water and ointment.

* * *

She said she would teach him so he took her to the cellar as she demanded or he would come to her chamber to learn how to count from 1 to 10. Besides, she had taught him ABC then how to read and write. She taught him whatever she had learn from her court tutor like arithmetic and poetry, sometimes even a little astronomy if they got a chance to hang around the village at cloudless nights, she was holding a basket of cakes and cherries and they climbed on a tree to finished them. The first time she came to Merlin's place with a dinner roll in her basket, she shared it with him and he bolted up his own meal in half a tick, and spent the rest of time fighting his desire of having another roll when having his lesson. She was annoyed by his distraction. "What's wrong, Merlin?" she frowned. He answered that he was fine, but there's a sound from his stomach that betrayed him. She knew that he wasn't greedy but literally starving, so she promised him he would get more next time.

He introduced Nimueh to her, and to her surprise, she found out that she and the cat had a bound between them, like she herself and Merlin. The three of them, they all had a bound which came from somewhere she couldn't tell.

He gradually could tell what people were saying to him as his vocabulary grew. Then he was able to read the letter his mother gave him. There was nothing much in the letter, except that she told him about the significance of love and hope.

He didn't really have to read this letter to know what love and hope was since his life had already taught him—he always had hope in his heart during these years, no matter how absurd it sounded like, until Morgana arrived—and he felt like… he had just won a battle.


End file.
